The Remembrall
by seriousblahblah
Summary: His Remembrall glowed red for two weeks until he finally realized what he should've done all along. When Hermione and Neville work together in herbology labs, suddenly their feelings change or is it just the pollen? Neville/Hermione with marriage and Professor Longbottom. One for the science nerds :) R&R
1. Chapter 1

a/n: What if the one thing you forget is the one thing you should do?

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 ****~The Remembrall~****

 **Neville/Hermione**

 ***~o~~o~***

 **.**

It was just an ordinary day. Like any other day for Neville Longbottom as he made his way, with a smile on his face, to Herbology class. He had a packet of Honeydukes chocolate in his pocket, which he'd swapped with Seamus Finnigan for use of his Remembrall.

Remarkably, despite all the things he'd lost over the years, he still had the Remembrall his Gran gave him in first year. The swirling little crystal ball was about the size of a large marble and turned red when you were forgetting something.

Although he didn't often use it, for he had a pretty good memory—despite how much Snape mocked him in Potions and called him a dunderhead—Neville could well remember what he had to without artificial help. Still, he kept the Remembrall because he liked looking at it, and he felt it had brought him luck since that time Harry Potter saved it from Draco's clutches. He just hoped that Seamus didn't lose it, for whatever purpose his friend was using it for.

.

"Neville!" Seamus clapped Neville on the back as they neared the greenhouses for Herbology class.

"Where were you?" Neville muttered. "Any later and you would've been late for class." Neville noticed that one of Seamus's shoes was scuffed and wondered if the Gryffindor had gotten into a scuffle. "D'you have my remembrall?"

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Calm your tits, I didn't lose it." The Irish student dug into his pocket and handed the clear Remembrall back.

Neville checked it for scratches and, satisfied that it was undamaged, slipped it back into his own pocket.

"What did you use it for anyhow?"

Seamus grinned. "I might have used it during the history test today. Aced it."

"Seamus!" Neville whispered and looked around at the class, hoping no one overheard. "You're not allowed to use it during exams. What if you had been caught? It would've been taken away."

"Relax. It was a history test. Binns." Seamus said the professor's name like it explained everything. "Besides, like you never use it to cheat anyways!" Seamus accused.

"I don't." Neville said flatly. "I keep it more as a memento." Neville's voice trailed off.

"Sure," Seamus shrugged and flipped open his ripped and dirty Herbology textbook.

There were brown marks from soil all over Seamus's textbook. While Neville's textbook was well-cared for and stain-free despite how often he reread it...Sometimes during meals or when re-potting plants. Yet he never spilled anything on it. In fact, the only time Neville ever spilled things was in Potions and often because he got so nervous when he was being screamed at by Snape.

"Attention class." Professor Sprout said as she walked up the benches lining the greenhouse. "We have a very important assignment today and I don't want any distractions so I will be pairing you up randomly."

The whole class groaned. Especially Seamus, who was usually paired with Neville and relied on the plant-lover to get them both good grades.

"I just hope I don't get Goyle." Seamus winced. "That would really take a beating to my grade. The guy's as thick as a bludger."

Neville sat back in his seat and stole a glance at the other side of the room. "Yeah well I just hope I don't get paired with Malfoy. I don't care how good he is at potions or herbology, the guy's a prat."

As Professor Sprout started to list off the pairings though, it was clear that she had chosen the most opposite of students to be paired: Gryffindors with Slytherins, and students who didn't get along or even talk to each other.

So Neville was somewhat surprised when he was paired up with a fellow Gryffindor and Hermione, to boot.

Professor Sprout winked at him. "You're my best student, Neville. And so is Hermione. You two deserve to be paired together. You always work quietly, unlike," she motioned with her eyes "...certain other students." She smiled primly again at him before moving away to help some of the Slytherin students who were already arguing with their Gryffindor partners. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were particularly vocal about not wanting to work together.

"Hey Neville," Hermione smiled politely and slid in the seat next to him. She heaved a sigh of relief as she set down her heavy shoulder satchel with a thud and took out her very well cared for copy of Herbology For the Advanced Student. She turned her brown eyes on his blue eyes. "Have you read the prelab instructions for today or do you need to borrow my notes?"

Neville shuffled in his seat and crossed his long legs. "No, it's alright I've already taken down my notes. See." He held out the pre-lab homework he'd filled out the other night, although many other students hadn't or left it to the last minute.

"Good. This will make things go faster and maybe we can slip out of class earlier," Hermione smiled and busily set to mixing up the Zazzalia tree pollen so that they could cross-polinate the two species and then study the effects on the progeny. (Then using a special accelerated growth spell, the Herbivicus spell, they could study the genetic effects through several generations. It would be fascinating.)

Hermione was so close to him that he could smell the shampoo—vanilla—in her bushy hair. And, he had to tuck his elbows in so that he didn't accidentally knock into her. The work bench was so small with their books already piled on top, plus the plants and pollen trays. Her back bumped into his front a few times.

Neville frowned, feeling a bit flustered and his cheeks reddening, though it wasn't hot in the greenhouse today.

It was odd working with her. Not because he hadn't before. They saw each other everyday at the Gryffindor dormitory and table...but well something felt different about today.

"It's the Zazzalia pollen," Hermione said suddenly.

"What?" Neville asked, his mouth feeling suddenly dry, and not having a clue what she was talking about.

"The scent of the Zazzalia pollen has the effect of making us think differently of old friends or old enemies." Hermione smirked and tapped her nose with her pen. "I think that's why Professor Sprout decided to change up the pairings today." She nudged her head towards Draco and Harry who were getting along remarkably well, despite how they usually hated each other.

"Odd," Neville said and flipped through the index at the back of his Herbology textbook. He quickly looked up the Zazzalia tree in the index and read the entry for it. "It doesn't say anything in the text about that particular effect...Only that zazzalia makes you drowsy and it's an ingredient in calming and medicinal potions."

Hermione's quill busily scribbled down some measurements about the parent plants species they were using. "I know. That's because the book only talks about the full grown tree, not the pollen specifically. The pollen, which it only produces once a year, has different properties from the parent tree. Including the zazzalian effect."

"Brilliant," Neville said in wonder and appreciation of having a lab partner he could actually discuss things with. Seamus's sum of knowledge about plants was reserved to the lettuce he ate in his salads.

Neville grinned, showing off his white straightened teeth. "So how did you find out about the pollen?" He playfully tried to sneak a glance at her notes, as if cheating.

Hermione shoved her pre-lab notes towards him so he could take a look for himself. And he grinned again.

She smiled proudly as he read over her notes. "I was a bit bored last night," she explained. "So I decided to check into the library and take some extra books about the genus of zazzalia trees. The whole line of magic trees are fascinating. I found a really great book by Joffrey Sprout. Did you know a lot of her family is in herbology?"

"No, didn't know that," Neville said in genuine surprise.

"Well," Hermione said and seemed to blush. "Herbologists and magical plant enthusiasts have a habit of marrying each other so I guess it 'breeds true' after a while."

"Makes sense," Neville said without thinking.

"You mean marrying people with the same interests, or yes to the other thing?"

"I'm not sure." Neville scratched at the back of his neck as he looked down at Hermione, who was still busily playing with the garden knife. Neville noticed that she could chop up things quickly with hr hands, perhaps from all that expertise in Potions. Hermione was much better at him at Potions.

"Well," Hermione said primly and and tucked a strand of her honey brown hair behind her ears. "I think I'd marry someone with different interests."

Neville grinned and his eyes lowered to look at her pink lips. "Well, then that'd be a cross-pollination. Like the zazzalia tree."

It was a really lame joke, but both being science nerds, they laughed giddily at it.

.

Half an hour later, they were also the first pair to finish the assignment. They had cross-pollinated four different species of zazzalia trees and watched the effects on petal colour and leaf patterns in the next two generations. In reward, Professor Sprout said they could leave early and waved them off.

They sprinted out of the greenhouse, Hermione lugging her heavy satchel.

Neville was about to go back up to the astronomy tower to meet the Ravenclaws for chess club, when he noticed Hermione was still behind him. Looking expectantly at him.

It seemed she wanted to spend more time with him.

"Oh did you want to hang out?" Neville asked awkwardly and patted at his hair, hoping it was not too messy. Although he was not too self-conscious about his looks anymore, since he'd filled out over fifth year and was taller than many of the boys, including Harry and Ron. If he spent time playing quidditch, instead of studying plants, he might have even filled out even more.

"I think I must have inhaled too much of that zazzalia pollen," Hermione muttered to herself before turning back to him. "Yes, Neville, would it surprise you if I wanted to spend more time with you? I'm sorry I haven't before." She bit her lip. "I'm not even sure why. We're actually quite similar."

"That must be the pollen talking," Neville said in a daze, feeling quite light headed. He stared at her brown eyes, noticing they were almost goldenish at certain angles.

"I don't think so. Well, not really." Hermione bit her lip. "We are similar."

"We're also different," he stammered and immediately regretted his words.

"Different is good, sometimes," Hermione said rather enthusiastically and he wondered what she could be thinking. He was about to ask a penny for her thoughts when she pulled at his robes. "C'mon Neville, let's go to Astronomy tower and see what the Ravenclaws are doing. You can tell me about me more of your plant jokes."

Neville smiled widely. Suddenly feeling lightheaded. "So you liked my plant puns?"

Hermione shook her head. "Neville, puns are never a good idea," but she smiled anyways.

Neville felt a strange exhilaration as he looked into her eyes.

.

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What did you think? Would love to hear your opinions...also zazzalian trees don't exist, I made them up because i'm not magical trees even exist...besides mandrakes, but I think mandrakes are small bushes or herbs, not trees? The cross-pollination thing is sort of real based on biology and so is Neville's love for herbology :-)

Herbivicus Charm Task: "Write about the theme of rapid growth. Whether this relates to a character, a plot, an idea, an inanimate object, etc., is up to you."


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to piano mouse, guest (yeah thanks) and serenite rose for reviewing :-) :-)

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 **Chapter 2:**

 **Getting to Know you**

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They spent the rest of the day together, and found out just how much they were both alike and different at the same time.

Neville had to keep reminding himself that this was Hermione. Because he saw her everyday yet ever since they'd worked together today in the herbology lab...there was just something different about her. He couldn't stop talking to her—or looking at her—and she seemed to be interested and nod at everything he said. A shy smile on her pink lips.

"Do you want to go...see the ruins?"

"Yes." She smiled. Again. _How many times had she smiled at him today?_

 _Had she always smiled at him this much, or had he never noticed until now?_ Neville shook his head, he really didn't know. Hermione was always nice, but was she being nicer today? He couldn't tell.

They walked up to the back of the castle and laughed their heads off at Filch trying to get Mrs. Norris off the cabbage patch.

Hermione didn't even go back to Harry and Ron for supper that evening. Even though she was usually glued to the pair and never seen apart from the trio, she spent most of the meal talking to Neville. They had so much to say, though they weren't the same at all.

For instance, they both loved reading books. But Neville liked reading books about botany, healing magic and magical adventures, whereas Hermione read more books about history, spells and transfiguration. Similarly, they both took good care of their books and were generally neat and tidy, unlike their friends.

Yet at the same time, they were outliers.

Neither really fit in anywhere exactly. Hermione was part of the Golden trio yet she was different from Harry and Ron. (Harry and Ron were closer to each other than they were to her. Harry grew up with muggles like her, yet she'd had a family like Ron. But she wasn't a pureblood like either Ron or Harry, and some people would always consider her an outsider. A _muggleborn_. A foreigner.) Similarly, Neville had his group of friends but he wasn't the same as them and he often stood apart in his interests and viewpoints. The other Gryffindor boys played and talked about Quidditch, Neville talked about plants and found he often had more to say to Ravenclaws who appreciated his interests. Yet he still had that Gryffindor courage. As did she.

Though at the end of the day they were all Gryffindors...Or maybe that was the pollen talking.

Neville was surprised by just how much he could talk in her presence, since he was not normally very talkative. At all. Or particularly funny. Though she laughed whenever he made one of his silly herbology jokes. Because she kept asking him to tell her one, and—since he knew too much herbology than was for his own good—he'd tell her one. One of his really bad puns, and even he was embarrassed at himself—turning red at the ears—yet she laughed.

"What is _Mimbulus Mimbletonia's_ favourite hobby?"

"I don't know Neville what?"

"Stinksap and ransom!" _Get it, like kidnap and ransom?_

She began to chuckle giddily. "Don't stop!" She covered her mouth. And then he told her an even worse pun and he was reminded that while Ron told the joke about the hag, the healer and the Mimbulus mimbletonia to make Madame Rosmerta laugh, he told his joke to make her laugh. And secretly, he thought his jokes a bit better than Ron's.

As they walked under a fuschia tree in the courtyard, she laughed and Neville paused for a monent, struck by the way the bright red and pink petals of the flowers hung in her hair. For a moment, he didn't know which was more beautiful: the fuchsia flowers or Hermione.

He blinked twice. He must have been very confused.

Fuchsia flowers were his favourite. They had so many magical properties, it was nearly astronomical.

How could he prefer her over the flowers?

.

"How long do the effects of zazzalia pollen last?" Neville asked suddenly as they made their way back to the Gryffindor tower, near the curfew. His hands were in his pockets, his right hand feeling the Rememberall that was always there in his right pocket.

"It should be wearing off," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Why? Do you feel any differently?"

"Nah...I don't think so." He stared at her wide brown eyes in something close to wonder. He felt the same way he had when they'd been in herbology class together. Except now he _knew_ clearly what he felt and wanted.

He was attracted to her. He wanted to kiss her.

Hermione Granger. He wanted Hermione Granger.

He wanted to run his hands through her hair and taste something of her.

But that was crazy talk, Hermione was a friend, he told himself. She'd always been there in the background. Since that day they first met and he'd foolishly been looking for his frog Trevor, he should've seen her instead. This enthusiastic muggle girl who wasn't frightened of anything. He thought he lacked courage sometimes, but really when the time came, he did whatever he could to set things right...just with not as much ferocity as she or Harry did. His bravery was quieter, until stirred.

He was partly in wonder of her. Perhaps he had been all these years and that's why he kept his distance from her.

Although, lowly Neville with his lost toad had long since passed to be replaced by the older, wiser, more confident Neville who towered at 6 feet and noticed that girls looked differently at him now.

Even other boys treated him with more respect and were more hesistant to pick fights or try to cross him. Malfoy hadn't tried to insult him since that time he cornered him round the back of the Potions corridor, after a particularly trying class...where he nearly lost him temper at Snape too.

Perhaps it was this new confidence that made him a bit reckless. For what he was about to do, or thought he would do.

"Hermione..."

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What do you think? Should I continue? And huge thanks to everyone who followed/faved, whoa!

And shout outs to my team BAMF in the word war challenge! :D


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Shout outs to peeps for reviewing! Thanks to chemical flashes, tresemellon, lrmorena, msmalloryreads, pottermum, sereniterose, pianomouse, CUtopia, snarkyandproudhufflepuff and guest for reviewing :-)

I also would like to apologize for not updating sooner. I've been writing a lot of crackfic both here and elsewhere and I think I have a crackfic addiction. It's pretty bad because some of the stuff I write is pretty weird, offensive and downright stupid...though I just consider it comedy...I'm going to have to stop writing crackfic and comedy from now on!

Cheers XD

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 **Chapter 3**

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 ** _A Remembrall turns red when you forget something..._**

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All of a sudden it felt like the world and corridor was closing down on him; squeezing down to this second. The corridor was so dark too; no one would see them if he took her by the hand into an alcove and lay her on top of his lap, her tiny waist around his.

"Hermione...I..."

Her eyes widened.

"What is it Neville?" her voice was so quiet in the empty corridor.

Her eyes were so wide and inviting, he just wanted to rake his hands down her vanilla-scented hair and back her up against the wall. The tiny thing she was, he could probably lift her with one arm off the ground.

But he just couldn't say it, for some reason. Not just now.

'Nevermind," he muttered shyly and pretended to forget. "I forget what I was going to say." Of course, he knew his remembrall, if he took it out of his pocket right now, would be clear coloured, not red.

"That's alright. You know you should try a memory charm, to help you in potions and such..." Hermione trailed off and rambled on about all the memory spells she knew and which ones were legal to use in school or under examination. He was a bit embarrassed that she thought he was genuinely forgetful...but then a lot of people thought he was and his reputation preceded him by now. Though, it was more nerves, more than anything, that made him forget things and blunder.

Neville gulped. He'd probably blunder and make a mistake right now, if he didn't stop himself.

.

They trailed up to the Astronomy tower and he listened pensively and in more wonder as she spoke about all the things she wanted to change in the wizarding world. Starting with house elf rights.

"Be the change you want to see in the world. It's my favourite quote," she sighed and stared up at the stars that were twinkling across the night sky.

"Gandhi," he supplied, barely able to concentrate on what he was saying.

He couldn't stop looking at her lips everytime she spoke and wondering what they might feel like wrapped around him. Or licking him. They were naughty dark thoughts that would've shamed him in his Gran's presence. Yet they were exactly the type of dark thoughts that haunted him in his bed at night when he had no choice but to fist his hands around his sheets and try to relieve the tension. Yet he'd never thought of her, of Hermione, during those moments.

It was always some other girl. Pansy Parkinson with her short skirts. Dominix Valentina with her red lips and dark Italian looks. Fleur Delacoure with her blonde veela hair. The unreachable types that looked at him with scorn. The high-maintenance types, the types of girls who were never seen without their glamour makeup on. The types of girls that used to laugh at him when he'd been a young and pudgy boy, he dreamt of making them submit to him with his new strength and power. Though he wasn't a violent boy, in his dreams he became someone rougher and more demanding...the shadow of the man he would become. The next stage.

Yet he'd somehow missed Hermione's faintly flushed cheeks and warm eyes in his dreams. Her understated beauty.

Perhaps because she'd never laughed at him.

Why had he wanted a girl who laughed at him before?

Was it because his Gran mocked him?

The thought disturbed him.

He'd never had violent dreams of twisting Hermione's hair around his hand and demanding things of her.

This was purer.

He hadn't dreamt of her at all.

Hermione was so close now. Reachable. Touchable. And he felt positively light and weightless in her presence. Those dreams were far away and replaced by something realer. Gentler. The man he was in his dreams would've just grabbed her and had his way with her. The boy who stood in front of her, instead, could stare into her eyes forever.

Hermione continued talking and hours slipped by as they went past curfew. Until Hermione finally said they should be going back (and was there the slightest note of sadness when she said that?) He didn't want this night to end either. Neville dared to grab her hand as they made their way, laughing quietly, to the Gryffindor tower. Her hand was small and soft and he remembered her cutting the zazzalia pollen with those same hands.

They stood outside the portrait to the Gryffindor tower for a moment.

In the dark corridor, her brown eyes seemed even rounder and huger, as they stared up at him and he was so much taller than her. Like she could fit right into him, tucked below his chin. He could protect her now. He realized how much had changed since that day on the train, when he had just been a boy with a frog.

He should've kissed her.

He should've kissed her then.

They both shuffled uncomfortably on their feet and Hermione's pink tongue reached out to lick her lips.

She must've been waiting but he let the moment pass.

He hesistated just a moment too long.

"Goodnight Neville."

And then all too quickly it was over.

His opportunity, chance, squandered.

She went ahead of him into the portrait and he followed after numbly. Inside the dormitory, they were no longer alone anymore. And he didn't know what to say to her, he brooded and stared at her across the common room, while she had both Ron and Harry draped over her. Her two male bestfriends begging her to help them with their homework or problems, and suddenly she didn't belong to him anymore. Not like in that moment when her brown eyes were only on his.

.

The Remembrall glowed a bright red for two whole weeks.

For two whole weeks he stared into the brewing, burning red before he finally came to his senses.

He got tired of people asking why his Remembrall was red. Whenever he took out the swirling crystal and thought of her, of her lips, the Rememberall would churn red.

"Hey Neville what did you forget to do?"

"I know what I forgot."

"Then why don't you take care of it?" they'd reply.

"Because it's not so simple," he'd snap and then mutter something or other about 'pollen'. And they'd frown at him like he'd finally gone crazy and finally studied too much herbology.

"Neville's gone round the bend," they'd mutter.

Until finally he could take it no more.

He met Hermione after the next herbology class and asked her to meet him.

He rushed to grab her, almost scaring her, with some of that playful roughness that only came out in dreams...but was starting to slip out in reality, as he got more and more used to being a confident young man, not a boy. He'd be turning the age of majority soon, he wasn't some stupid boy on the train anymore looking for his frog. He should go after her...Hermione, this bright girl with freckles and imperfections who liked the same things he did. He knew Ron and Harry could offer her more, but he didn't seem them paying her attention and he had a bright future too, he could be someone too.

She squealed as he covered her eyes with his hands for a moment before she swung around. He was being aggressive but playful.

"What do you want from me?" she squealed as his hand hooked around her waist.

.

.

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a/n- Neville should go for it! Or not? Will Hermione punch him out? Or does she like him too?

Also I think I read somewhere that the Longbottoms were part of the sacred 28 rich pureblood families, so Neville should be more confident too if he's going to be a heir one day XD


	4. Chapter 4

_So Neville is supposed to be a really shy character so he procrastinates yet again and blunders a bit, so sorry if he's painfully awkward in this chapter. The ending will be set in the future when he is older and much more confident, here he is still a blundering, awkward idiot XD...Also I think he may have a guilt complex with women because of his overpowering grandma Augusta Longbottom...he'd have issues expressing himself! There's some cheeky humour though towards the end ;P_

 _thank you to_ _fanfictionfan1990, MrsMorgan813, Natalie, moonlight10060, pianomouse, snarkyhufflepuff,nymphxdora, moonlight10060 and_ _chemicalflashes for reviewing the last chapter ;-) and thanks to everyone that followed/faved too_

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 **.**

 _ **What if you want something you cannot have?**_

 **.**

.

He dipped in towards her and wrapped his arm around her waist tighter, drawing him to her.

She made a sound like an "oh" and her beautiful mouth curved into an o-shape before he released her just as suddenly.

"Neville what are you doing?" She seemed particularly puzzled and the faintest rose blushed in her cheeks as her hands lifted to push back her hair from her face.

He wanted to kiss her, _so much_ , but he decided that he couldn't risk their friendship by doing it now, or lose face by moving too quickly. He wasn't exactly an expert on these things either. But he had the faint notion that if he kissed Hermione now, without giving her a word of warning, she would either slap him or hate him forever.

So he brushed off his behaviour as if it didn't happen. As if he'd never looked at her like he wanted to eat her like a depraved animal.

He was still a pureblood, a gentleman with manners.

 _He thought suddenly of his Gran, of how she would scream at him for doing things improperly. For not doing things the pureblood way, the proper way. Courting. He shuddered as he tried to reconcile the feeling of his grandmother's wrath with the warm, wonderful feeling he got from the girl wrapped around him._ _How he could ever reconcile two things so disparate? This soft and effusive girl, whose lips curved in a gentle, smooth line, whose eyes were warm and inviting...With the strict and ugly rules of his world?_

He didn't want to reconcile them. Not now.

He grabbed her by the hand, and though he was awkward and unused to these things, he tried to be firm, as if he had everything under his control.

Hermione seemed to waver in uncertainty, but he pressed his hand against hers and met her eyes.

"Neville what are you doing?" she asked much too quietly to be in true alarm. She seemed to subconsciously ease into his touch, or so he imagined. "Why did you ask me to meet you here?"

"Do you remember once you helped me find my toad, Trevor, when I lost him?" He stared in a daze at her, certain he probably sounded like a cretinous weirdo or dork.

"How could I forget? Of course, I remember. It was how we first met." Hermione bit her lip and nodded. Her eyes were wide too. "Did you lose him again?"

He couldn't lie to her, though he needed an excuse to spend more time alone with her.

"Not really. I've actually lost, and forgot _,_ something," _someone_ "else." He scratched at his neck. "It's been turning my Remembrall red for ages."

"Neville," she said gently and pushed back from him, disentangling herself, almost disappointed and her expression colder. "What did you lose?" Her voice was analytical again, as if he were presenting her with math or a puzzle she had to solve.

"I can't remember exactly..." he said evasively. _Your lips, really._

"Neville," she repeated with more than a hint of impatience, because Hermione Granger liked to solve things. "Please try to remember."

"I am trying, it's just hard to say," he stammered and his face flushed because he felt guilty deceiving her, and yet he couldn't exactly say he forgot to kiss her two weeks ago? It was hard enough as it is, now, standing here and blundering like an idiot...

Hermione stomped her feet impatiently.

"Well, when did you last see it?"

 _Just now._ "Two weeks ago"

"And how did you lose it?"

 _Cowardice,_ he wanted to say truthfully. Instead, he told the half-truth. "I waited too long and it took off."

"Wait, are we talking about a sentient being? Because I thought you said you didn't lose your toad."

"It's another creature entirely." _It's you._ Damn it, Merlin, she must think he was a blundering idiot with bad memory. Though it had always been the nerves that got him and held him back from getting what he wanted.

"Right." Hermione took out a muggle pen that had been tucked behind her ear, she moved it to her bag and slipped it beside a notebook, before looking back up at him quizzically. "But you can't remember what creature it is? Then how do you know it's missing?"

He smiled, because he could answer this honestly. "Because I feel it in here." He tapped at his chest where his heart was beating wildly.

"Ah," she said slowly exhaling a breathe. "I think I understand." She nodded.

For a moment, he frowned as he thought she understood what he really said. "Do you?"

His heartbeat skipped a beat. But then what she said next almost made him laugh, giddily.

"Yes, you've lost your geckobyte pin haven't you? I saw you wearing it once."

Neville let out a great big sigh of relief. Hermione's mind was truly brilliant. He had actually lost his pin, quite some time ago. But then that had been on purpose because the damn geckobyte lizard had been a pest and nuisance, that he'd been glad when he let it escape onto the Hogwarts grounds.

"Yes," he could now say honestly. "Can you help me find it?"

"Depends."

"On what?" He gulped, wondering if she was going to ditch him now to go off with Harry and Ron.

"Where you last left it."

Neville grinned in relief. "I think it might've ran off somewhere in the gardens."

.

They trailed solemnly up to the gardens, every so often stealing glances at each other. If Neville didn't know better, he would say Hermione was nervous too. Though what would she be nervous about? She seemed to keep wanting to make small talk about obscure topics and then ranting awkwardly when she ran out of things to say on-topic. He decided to steer the conversation back to something that was pressing on his mind.

"Hermione, do you think that I'm a joke, when in third year my boggart was revealed to be Professor Snape?"

She rounded on him, her bright brown eyes staring up at him. "No, why would you say that Neville?"

"I don't know. You must think it's pretty pathetic that I was frightened of Professor Snape."

"Are you?" She arched her brows at him.

He stared at her, she didn't seem to be judging. He thought for sure she'd laugh. "Still afraid of him? I don't know. I'm not sure how well I'd deal with Snape now. I never got the chance to fight him at my full size."

Hermione snorted and seemed to blink in disbelief. "And it's _unlikely_ that you will get a chance to fight a professor without getting expelled!"

"I fought with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle singlehandedly."

Hermione began to chuckle hardily. "Yes, that was back in first year wasn't it? I always was surprised you actually had the nerve to take on the three of them."

Neville grinned at his own foolishness too. "I wasn't at my full size then either, so I got a pounding pretty bad." He still remembered the bruises and how Madam Pomfrey had to patch him up with Skele-Gro and Dittany Essence. "Still I've done better with them since, Malfoy I think is a bit afraid of me. Since I bust his lip in fourth year, he hasn't tried to say a peep to me."

"Neville, how many fights have you been getting into?"

"Not that many. Still it's part of being a boy at Hogwarts to get into some scrapes." He put his hands in his pockets as he pretended to leisurely stroll.

"Oh I'm sure!"

"Still, I didn't get in as much trouble as you, Harry and Ron did?"

"We didn't break that many rules."

"What was your boggart again?" he asked teasingly. He knew full well what her boggart had been, but he liked to see her blush.

Right on timing, Hermione blushed and looked very embarassed. She waved her bag of books around.

"It was McGonagall telling me I failed all my exams, that was my boggart."

"That's adorable."

"Shut up."

.

He was feeling unusually confident now. As if he'd swallowed a whole bottle of _Felix Felicis_ or inhaled a bunch of zazzalian pollen. But he hadn't taken either, so he knew he was just off some natural high of being around her. Hermione made him laugh and she made him think, and while before he thought she would judge him, she was nowhere as judgmental as she had been in first year.

He grinned to himself, and he was nowhere near as rule-following as he had been in first year either. They had both had changed, evolved in different ways.

Yet they were much more complimentary now as fifth year students.

Then again, she had first met him when Neville was chasing after his lost toad, and right now, they were again chasing down another amphibian Neville had lost. Except this time he had lost it on purpose to spend time with her.

 _What an idiot he was._ Neville grinned happily to himself.

"Do you see it yet?" Hermione called as she checked under each bush and tall reed in the gardens, while repeatedly shouting _"Accio geckobyte_ ".

"No." He honestly had no clue where the 4-legged pin had wandered off to now and he'd be glad if he didn't ever see it again. The thing _was_ called a _geckobyte_ pin because it did _bite_. Perhaps that's why his Uncle Algie had given it to him, as a laugh to torture his nephew as usual.

"It's got to be here somewhere," Hermione intoned furiously.

Neville stared at her rather than the bushes or any signs of amphibians. "Yes."

"I mean it can't have fallen off the face of the earth!"

"No, it might be very close."

He edged up closer to her and caught her eye, as they both said "accio geckobyte" at the same time.

Did she blush again?

.

The sun was lowering in the sky, bleeding the clouds and Hogwarts grounds, in a soft, burning red hues. The roses and creeping dragon vines in the gardens all appeared more red and vivid bathed in the light of the sundown. Especially her lips seemed redder and plumper in the fading sunlight.

They'd stayed out entirely too late, and, despite sincere efforts and some distraction, had still not located the sneaky geckobyte lizard pin.

"It's no use is it?" Hermione pouted. Her hair was frizzy from bending through the bushes and clearly frustrated to be outsmarted by a lizard with an IQ below 5 points.

"Actually, I think I'm going to thank my Uncle Angie for ever getting it."

"Why?"

Neville couldn't wait any longer. He was a shy, bumbling boy, once perhaps. But he wasn't that boy anymore, he was a man, or was fast becoming one. Or maybe that is what his hormone-crazy body was telling him so that he could have the guts to pass his genes on and all that Darwinistic rubbish. He didn't care anymore, what his Gran Augusta, or Uncle Algie, or Charles Darwin or Severus Snape would say, he knew what he wanted.

He grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and before he had time to think what a great fool he was and how bad an idea this was—he planted his lips on hers.

She made a sound like " _hhaeeeh_ ", as if letting out a gust of air or just sheer surprise at the force of his passion for her.

Then she mumbled something incoherent and his hands slipped from her shoulders to her waist again, and her lips parted. Her skin was hot even through her robes and her lips were wet and tasted of some kind of strawberry lip balm that was intoxicating and he would never forget the taste of. He didn't really know what he was doing, except seeming to try to eat her mouth with his own, in a gentle nips, and yet she seemed to be responding if the way she nipped back at him was anything to go by. He wanted to sing praise to the heavens above inside, because Hermione Granger had playfully nipped him back, and without even realizing it, his hands had edged towards her shirt and impatiently pressed her closer to him.

"Neville?" Hermione gasped suddenly and her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she stared downwards. "I think you have something in your pocket."

Neville grinned and took out the Remembrall from his pocket. "Don't hex me yet. It's not what you think," he began to laugh while enjoying her embarrassed blush far too much.

He handed her the Remembrall and she stared at the little glass ball in shock. "I don't understand. It's no longer red and we still haven't found the geckobyte pin."

"I found you," he said and dipped in to claim her lips again, his whole body igniting in fire, as if this was what he was put on earth to do, to make love to Hermione Granger.

She let the ball slip out of her hands as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "You know, you could've done this sooner."

"Really? You mean that—you wanted me to?"

"Yes." She nuzzled up against his nose.

Now that was a surprise. Hermione Granger wanted him.

.

.

 _Next chapter: The Future and Professor Longbottom_ _Thank you for reading and have a nice weekend ;)_

 _[Prompts for potions lesson used: different, blush, hearbeat, flutter]_


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you to everyone that reviewed, faved and followed for reading, I couldn't have done it without you ;) Special thanks mrsmorgan, pianomouse, lamia, cutopia, guest, crownlessqueen, and onyxobsidian for reviewing the last chapter :)

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 **The Remembrall** **by siriusbarks**

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 **Chapter 5:**

 **Bright Futures**

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 _ **Hogwarts grounds, September 2000**_

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It was just an ordinary day. Like any other day for Professor Neville Longbottom as he made his way, with a smile on his face, to the Herbology class he had to teach to a group of first years.

It was the cycle of life that what once was new becomes old, and what was young and frightened eventually becomes wise and the teacher. Or so he liked to think. He'd certainly learned his lessons over the years.

And while corners and edges of the shyer, young boy remained dormant within him, he was very much loving being the confident young professor in his twenties who had a fulfilling academic life and a wild wife on the side.

Neville grinned. Luckily, he learned long ago to go after what he wanted; and from the price he paid, he had reaped and sowed.

Also, he didn't have too look far for comfort. His wife always made sure to send him a little message while they were both away and she was at the Ministry.

He felt the Remembrall in his pocket. His cheeky little wife had had it modified so that it could tell him _exactly_ what he'd forgotten and _exactly_ how to please her. (Neville felt he was pretty good at pleasing her altogether.)

Though Neville liked to think that he didn't forget much stuff, and he mostly kept the Remembrall with him for sentimental reasons and not because he was a blundering buffoon. He'd long gotten over those confidence issues, and he was glad to say too, that Hogwarts had become an abuse-free place since Snape's retirement and subsequent demands from the Ministry—and a certain particularly vocal ministry worker with bushy hair—to implement protocols that required all teachers treat their students respectfully.

He tossed the apple in his hand. He liked to think he was very loved by his students, and treated them respectfully without the help of the Ministerial sanctions and regulations. The Ministry could be a busy-body sometimes and damn right nosy in his business. Particularly one person who worked there.

He grinned as he thought of that _particular_ Ministry worker with bushy hair and curvy hips; he didn't mind her being too nosy with him!

He arrived early for his class and sat at his desk which was deserted and covered with seeds and scrolls and rare plant guides from his travels. He was about to start correcting some of the plant diagrams his students had submitted, when he was interrupted by a little cough.

He swung around in his squeaky-wheeled chair to face the Floo network. His face lit up in a mischievous grin.

"Ministry Deputy Granger, can I do something for you?"

The gorgeous Ministry worker crossed her arms and pouted. "Cut the crap, Professor Longbottom," she said with mock formality. "You know there's something I want you to do."

Neville checked his silver muggle wristwatch that Hermione's mother had given him, and subtly flicked his wand at the shutters along his classroom so that it was safe from prying eyes, and the classroom locked.

He nestled his hands together on the firm wood surface of his desk as he stared tauntingly at the woman in the Floo.

"Now I'm not sure we have time for that, I have a class starting..." He coughed in embarrassment, though his head and body tingled with the possibilities.

Hermione snorted. "Not _that,_ " she grinned and the tip of her pink tongue peaked out. "I think we have plenty of time to take care of that later. I was talking about the _other_ thing."

Neville's thick black brows knit together. "Now you do have me confused darling, what other thing are we talking about?"

The woman in the fireplace rolled her eyes. "Check your pocket and take a look at your Remembrall, you'll see a _lot_ of red writing there."

Neville grinned. "Well, I do have you to thank for those modifications..."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please, someone needed to improve the design of the Remembrall to actually tell you what you're forgetting, and not just that you were forgetting something. Honestly I don't know who came up with the original design!"

"Now there's no need to bash the original Remembrall design. I have quite a few fond memories of them, lacking design or not."

"Just check your pocket." Hermione sighed but with amusement flickering in her brown eyes

The professor grinned and fished the beloved Remembrall, he'd had for the past 12 years, out of his pocket.

"Oh, it is red," he said, holding out the swirling red crystal before her.

"What does it say?"

He winked. "Now hold on. Why is this so important to you?"

"Neville what does it say?" she practically hissed, impatience growing in her like steam trying to get out of a kettle.

Neville enjoyed her impatience and leaned back leisurely in his professor's chair while cradling the Remembrall in his hands, obscuring it from sight.

"Now, now, what is with your impatience? Is there some sort of thing going on?"

Hermione made a moaning sound of frustration. "NEVILLE! Please just look at the Remembrall for Merlin's sake! I shouldn't have to remind you."

Neville studied the rosy colour that grew in her cheeks whenever she got angry at him; he enjoyed her blush much more than he should. He bit at the corner of his thumb and decided to tease her further. "And yet I don't usually forget things these days."

"No," she said, glaring daggers at him. "But when you do forget things, Neville, it's always the important stuff that nobody would expect you to forget."

"I'll have you know, my Remembrall is clear 99% of the time."

"Congratulations!" Hermione hissed, the flames of he fireplace sparking embers around her image. "But in the 1% of time that you do forget, it's always the _big_ things."

Neville started to feel uneasy and pulled at his collar, his mind trying to wrack what it is he could've forgotten...Certainly not anything to do with the Ministry or Hogwarts. He felt something uneasy in his stomach and he really didn't want to look at his Remembrall now. "How big are we talking about?"

Hermione smirked. "Check your Remembrall and slap your forehead, I'll be waiting at home after work to laugh at you."

"That bad?" he asked tentatively, still holding the Remembrall within the closed palm of his hand.

She nodded and raised her brows. "I'll be seeing you later. And _do_ try to make up for it."

With that she disappeared from his classroom's fireplace and Neville looked down at his closed fist that held the Remembrall.

What on earth could he have forgotten now that was so important? He usually prided himself on the fact that his Remembrall was hardly ever red for much time anymore.

He opened his palm again and stared at the little Remembrall, which seemed to have gotten smaller over the years. Or just his hands bigger.

He read the little line of red text etched onto the ball's surface.

"Oh shit."

.

.

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A/N: Any guesses as to what Neville might've forgot? Do remember that Neville and Hermione are already married at this point in the story ;-) heheh


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to** **BCgurlie, fanfiction1990, peacerevolution, arty, mrsmorgan, onyx obsidian, sparky and stargirlpotter** **for reviewing the last chapter, this update is for you, and a bit of fluff I think. If you've read this far, please drop me a comment and tell me what you think. Do you imagine adult professor Longbottom like this? Or have I made him too nice or too dorky? All comments and suggestions appreciated. Also I'm writing some jamione and sirmione stories too if that's more up your alley~~** **cheers~~** **siriusbarks**

* * *

 **.**

 **Chapter 6**

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.

He stared at the red Remembrall in shock and re-read the red text written there several times to be sure, because he didn't want to believe his eyes.

How could he have forgotten that?

"Oh _bollocks bollocks bollocks_ ," he swore aloud and he pressed his fingers to his mouth, nearly dropping the Remembrall.

"Professor?"

Neville twisted around in his desk to see that one of his students had trickled in and heard him swear.

"Sorry, Timmy." He quickly pocketed the Remembrall away. "Your professor seems to be having an off-day."

"Tough day at work?" little Timmy asked, as if he were an old man.

"No, the missus. I forgot our anniversary." _Bugger it._ "Two years going on strong, since we married."

"You had better make it up to her."

"What do you suggest I do?"

Timmy shrugged. "You're always telling us flowers are the nicest."

"Nice choice." He stared at the little boy, wondering why he was so wise and seemingly knowledgeable and mature for an 11 year old. "You have good taste in plants."

Timmy shrugged and put down his satchel of books on his desk near the front. "You _are_ our professor."

Neville smirked. "Of course, and I taught you well. Still, I'm not sure flowers will make it up to her." He bit nervously at his thumb and paced the floor in front of the chalk board, wondering how Hermione was going to take it that he'd forgotten their anniversary.

"You always said flowers are the most important ingredients in saying 'I love you' and you can say anything with flowers because each flower means a different thing," Timmy informed him, as if reciting an essay for points.

"Did I?" Neville raised his heavy black brows.

Timmy nodded.

"Merlin," Neville told himself. "I must be getting sentimental."

Timmy, who was very much like Neville when he was 11 years old, sighed and opened his herbology textbook to the day's lesson.

"I want to be just like you when I grow up," Timmy said cheerfully, with a toothy wide-gaped smile. "And teach herbology and have a wife to give flowers to and live in a manor."

"Not too much like me, I hope." Neville muttered and got up to scribble down some notes on the chalkboard for today's lesson on Abyssinian flowers. He glanced back over his shoulder at Timmy, out of curiosity. "What do they say about my Manor?"

"That you live like Batman in it and go to work by day as Professor Longbottom and at night work as an auror and fight crime like Batman"

Neville chuckled. "Now that will amuse her." He shook his head and tried not to giggle too much at the idea. "Longbottom Manor is just that a manor, I inherited it. It's not some secret lair for me to fight crime. It's actually just a really old house...and am sorta stuck with it, being the last," _er sane and uninjured,_ "Longbottom."

"So you don't actually fight Death Eaters?" Timmy asked with clear disappointment.

Neville suddenly felt very guilty as he stared at the little boy, who looked up to him, and who was clearly muggleborn. He stopped writing on the chalkboard and sat down on his desk.

"Timmy..." he said evasively. "If I still actually worked for the Aurors, I couldn't tell you that, could I?" He threw the chalk in his hands. "It's classified."

Timmy's face beamed as he smiled from ear to ear. "So you _do_ work for them?"

"I might." Neville chuckled again.

Not that Neville really couldn't tell him that. It really was classified. And a Hogwarts professor, if he was an auror by night, wasn't supposed to confide all his secrets to a first year muggleborn student...though if anyone could get it out of him, it was probably Timmy. Some days he felt like Timmy was his therapist. Because the boy always arrived early for class and then got him to talk about anything. Neville really needed to stop having a loose tongue.

He went back to writing on the board and the boy continued to pester him with questions. It was sort of annoying, but given that it distracted him from the impending issue of his forgotten anniversary, he sort of appreciated the banter.

"What about your manor? Is it true you have a chandelier in there that you like to swing from?"

"What?" Neville felt his face fold into a deep frown. Because he'd rather ridiculous rumours about himself, but swinging from a chandelier just took the cake. Did people think he and Hermione lived like Jane and Tarzan in private? "Why on earth would I swing from a _chandelier?_ " Though it was true that Longbottom Manor had a very old and pretentious chandelier, it wasn't something he'd ever considered swinging from...given his weight and the antiquity of the thing, the rusty thing would probably just break and break his neck too.

"Well, sir, it's known that you have a conservatory filled with jungle vines and plants..and well you are athletic..."

Neville stared incredulously at the student. He wasn't sure if this was a compliment or insult, to be compared to Tarzan. Although he had been called a 'beefcake' and other odd terms by his female colleagues and random admirers who knew he was the man who killed Voldemort's snake.

"...so," Timmy continued. "Some of the kids in Ravenclaw said that you swung like Tarzan from them."

"Timmy?"

"Yes?"

"Don't believe everything Ravenclaws tell you. They're not as smart as they think they are."

And he should know, his wife was a Gryffindor and just about the smartest person he knew around anywhere. Neville stretched and scratched tiredly at his neck; he had a bunch of sore muscles there and it wasn't from swinging from chandeliers, but other types of workouts. And gardening. Gardening was a surprisingly athletic activity, especially with carrying bags of dirt and wheelbarrows.

"Sorry, sir." Timmy's face split into a grin.

"Nevermind. You know, I think I've got an idea of how to impress Hermione now," he told the boy with a chuckle.

The class began to fill out with his students until the lesson began and Neville cheerfully lectured his students on the dangers of swimming in the Nile if you were a botanist and the many magical properties of Egyptian water plants, like the Firebreathing Lotus.

.

Near the end of class, he edged near Timmy's desk again. "Now, Timmy. Can you do me a favour?" the boy nodded eagerly. "As soon as class is over I have to run out of here and get my wife a present and reservations..something for our anniversary, before she rings my neck. D'you think you could help clean up after your classmates so we can all get out of here sooner?"

"Consider it done."

Neville smiled widely at the boy and ruffled his hair. If he ever had a son one day, he hoped he'd be a bit like Timmy. If a bit stronger and less nerdier...because he didn't want his son being bullied. Although he had also started out as a pudgy and then skinny boy too, before he finally filled out and now he was pure muscles. Still the first 14 years where he was a pudger or beanpole weren't that fun. Well, at least he could be around for Timmy and make sure no professor like Snape or other students bullied him while he was in his class.

Now he just had be there for Hermione and make sure his Jane didn't ring this Tarzan's neck.

He dashed out of class as soon as the bell rang and dived towards the Floo.

"Diagon Alley," he said as he threw a handful of the Floo powder into the fireplace.

.

.

authors note: Well Neville, jeez, you forgot your own second anniversary! And what is his idea for making it up to Hermione? Swinging like Tarzan from a chandelier? Giving her a rare firebreathing Lotus plant?

Give me your suggestions or any ideas of what you want to see happen in the next chapter

thanks for reading and peace out.


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